The Phoenix Rises
by SophStratt
Summary: AU: Jean Grey has loved Bruce Wayne her whole life, but when his journey to self-discovery leaves her heartbroken and unstable, forces attempt to corrupt her and her powers. Bruce returns to find Jean is a different person to the one she used to be and Jean's job as a S.H.I.E.L.D operative leads her to unearthing secrets about her old flame that could destroy her and Gotham City.


Bruce sat on the plane, mud still covering his body, staring out of the small circular window. He'd already told Alfred his plans for saving Gotham from itself, and now it was quiet again, as the flight to Gotham seemed to go more slowly than it ever had.

"I feel as though I should tell you something that happened while you were away, sir." Alfred said, breaking the silence. Alfred's tone had Bruce sitting up straighter.

"What? Is it about Jean? Or Rachel?"

"Jean, Master Bruce. She was attacked a few years ago by a group she has always refused to name. She's not quite the same anymore."

"What? She's still alive though, right? She's not still physically harmed in any way? She's okay?" Bruce asked, hurriedly. He still loved Jean Grey. Jean and Rachel had been his best friends as a child, knowing Jean from birth onwards, and Rachel from when they were six. They had all been great friends, it's just that Jean and Bruce had always been more. Always had chemistry between them that wasn't there with Rachel.

"They thought they had killed her, but they hadn't. She lay dying in a warehouse, only to be saved by her…mutant abilities, Master Wayne. Her…powers grew exponentially and she lost control of them for a while, and almost destroyed Rhode Island and herself. The press dubbed it 'The Rise of the Phoenix'." When describing Jean's ordeal, Alfred's voice broke a couple of times, the thoughts of her attack still upsetting him years afterwards.

"What?"

"Like the bird, Master Wayne. Her hair turns red, her eyes go black, and she seems to glow as if she were on fire. And her abilities of telekinesis and telepathy strengthened and she developed the ability of flight. But only as the Phoenix as of right now. She regained her control with the help of Professor Charles Xavier, I believe he was the headmaster of the boarding school she used to attend, and she regained her job as a private practice doctor at Gotham County General and gained a job working for some secret government organisation that she's not allowed to talk about."

"How does everyone know? It can't have been because of the Rhode Island incident, they would have kept that under wraps."

"The Phoenix, as her alter-ego is known, very nearly killed a group of people who tried to drag the Wayne family name through the mud at a charity ball. She thought she had control, but she didn't," Alfred revealed. "Miss Jean always loved your parents, very, very much, and you even more so, sir."

"I know."

And he did. Bruce knew that once there would have been nothing that Jean Grey wouldn't do for him, and his family. Jean spent most of her summers at Wayne Manor, mostly because her mother had been murdered when she was six, and her father was less than caring towards her. Bruce's parents had treated her like a daughter, and so had Alfred. She'd had her own room in Wayne Manor that she probably still slept in sometimes to keep Alfred company whilst Bruce was away.

"If you insist on ridding Gotham of injustice, you should know you'll have competition. Miss Grey battles crime herself. Jim Gordon is constantly telling her off."

"Jim Gordon? How do they know each other?" Bruce asked.

"He was the one who investigated her attack, and the one who investigated her father's murder. She sees him like a father-figure, not unlike me or so she says."

"Harry Grey's dead?" Bruce exclaimed, feeling a surge of surprise and sympathy towards his estranged love.

"Yes, Master Bruce, a couple of years ago. Miss Grey stays mostly in an apartment in the city and at Wayne Manor. She hasn't stepped foot in her parent's own manor since Mr Grey died." Alfred said, sadly.

Alfred loved that little girl like his own, just like he loved Bruce as his own. She had been a lovely, sweet little girl, albeit sometimes sad because of her mother, and then the passing of the Wayne's, but she'd always been very much apart of Alfred's family. Alfred always felt a twinge of sadness knowing that the darkness of Gotham city tried very hard to taint the girl's innocence, and almost succeeded. But Jean was strong. And knowing that put Alfred more at ease.

After a moments silence, Bruce spoke again.

"Does she think I'm dead, Alfred?"

"No. I think she's waiting for you to come back, sir. Miss Grey was never one to believe rumors I asked her once. If she thought it was true. She said 'If Bruce was dead, I'd feel it in my bones. I'd feel empty, but I don't. So he's not. He'll come back to us, and when he does, I might just kill him for leaving'. Always did have a lot of spirit, did my Jeannie." Alfred told Bruce, with a chuckle.

Bruce smiled.

"Has she dated anyone?"

"When Mr Grey was alive, he forced her out on dates, trying to find someone who could help her run Grey Industries, but she always found a way to make them run for the hills. She really was waiting, Master Bruce."

Bruce's smile grew wider. She'd waited for him. Even though their last conversation had been less than cheerful, and she had tears in her eyes, and a disappointed look on her face as she said the words that had echoed around his head.

"Your father would be ashamed of you."

Thomas Wayne would have. He was a man of justice, loyalty, fairness…Bruce had nearly destroyed the ideals that his father stood up for, for pathetic revenge.

"Does she run Grey Industries then?" Bruce asked, trying to soak up all the information on Jean he was receiving.

"Not directly. She's more of a ghost owner. She does most of the work away from the office, because she has another job working for some government organisation. She's not allowed to talk about what exactly it is she does, but she's been working very hard to improve her father's company, whilst making sure Mr Earle doesn't destroy yours. She's said that she would buy Wayne Enterprises when it goes public, so that she could look after it until you arrive. Mr Earle isn't too fond of her."

"Really? That's a first. I've never met anyone who could honestly say that they dislike Jean." Bruce said, with a smile.

Jean had a certain charm about her that drew people to her. And she knew it. She used it to her advantage sometimes. Mostly with Bruce or Alfred. When they were younger, she used to make big doe eyes at Alfred until he caved and gave her the cookies her and Bruce had asked for. Or when Bruce and Jean had started dating, she'd persuade him to do what she wanted with kisses. Jean Grey was something different entirely.

"Well…he doesn't like it when she interferes with his business on your behalf, Master Bruce." Alfred said.

"Why would she do that?"

"She doesn't like him. Said she's never met anyone more in love with themselves. And that that kind of arrogance begs to be challenged. Miss Grey has always loved a challenge."

Bruce grinned.

"Those challenges usually ended with me getting hurt trying to keep up with her."

"Like that time you broke your arm falling out of that tree. Do you remember, Master Wayne?"

Of course Bruce remembered.

_"Come on, Bruce! You aren't afraid of heights, are you?" Jean giggled, running up to a tree in Bruce's garden, putting her small eight year old hand on it, preparing to boost herself up._

_"We'll fall and hurt ourselves!" Bruce said, running to catch up with her. Rachel was behind him, a timid worried look in her eyes. She didn't like it when Jeannie did stunts like this. Rachel didn't want either of her friends to get hurt._

_"Not if we're careful! If you climb up here with me, I'll persuade Alfred to make us ice cream!" She offered, already beginning to climb._

_Bruce looked up at her, as she climbed. Jean was fearless. And Bruce couldn't let himself be afraid of falling, especially when a girl wasn't afraid. He sighed once, and then began climbing. He knew which branches were safe to put his feet on, and he always tested them once first, before putting his whole weight on them._

_He looked up occasionally, to see if Jeannie was alright. And she was. She had stopped, sitting on a branch, high up in the tree, waiting for him. Bruce wanted to laugh. She was perched on the branch, like a bird, and that's what Bruce's mother called her. Her little bird. Rachel always pouted when Martha Wayne did this, because Rachel hadn't been given an endearing nickname. She didn't spend all of her time at the Wayne's. Only weekends. Jean was there pretty much always._

_She realised he wasn't paying attention to where he was placing his feet anymore before he did._

_"BRUCE!" She shouted, seconds before he put his whole weight on a weak branch, which immediately snapped under him, making him fall._

_Bruce landed heavily on the ground, and Jean quickly, but carefully, scrambled down the tree, expertly landing. Rachel was crying, but Jean knew what to do._

_"Rachel, go get Mr Wayne and Mr Alfred. Tell them Bruce has a broken arm. Go!" Jean ordered her friend, who nodded and ran towards the manor._

_Jean knelt down by Bruce, pulling off her little cardigan, and placing it under Bruce's arm to elevate it from the ground. He moaned when she did it, but quietened when she kissed his cheek._

_"I'm sorry, Bruce. I'll get Alfred to give you a double scoop of ice cream, and then even feed it to you, since you broke your best arm. Don't worry I've got everything under control."_

_Thomas Wayne ran towards the two kids, and immediately went into Doctor Wayne mode. He knelt down by Bruce and checked over his arm._

_"Jeannie, did you put the cardigan under his arm?"_

_"Yes, Mr Wayne."_

_"Good thinking, sweetheart. You'll be a good doctor one day."_

_"Thank you, sir. It wasn't Bruce's fault. I asked him to climb the tree with me. He was most likely worrying about me that he didn't watch where he put his foot. The branch snapped underneath him, sir." Jean explained._

_Thomas noted how eloquent and grown up Jean was for an eight year old. Her and Bruce definitely seemed to be older than little Rachel, who was eight as well. He smiled at her._

_"Don't worry, sweetheart. We know you two get up to mischief. Let's take him inside, and get him bandaged up."_

_"Mr Wayne, where's Mr Alfred? I promised Bruce I'd get him ice cream, and then feed him, as its my fault he's hurt."_

_"I'm here, Miss. Let's go to the kitchens, while Mr Wayne patches up Master Bruce. We'll get ice cream for everyone."_

_Jean smiled at the white haired man, taking his hand as they followed Thomas and Bruce Wayne inside._

"I remember her following through with her promise to feed me ice cream. Though I'm pretty sure she had more than I did, and I was the one with the broken arm." Bruce accused his butler, who chuckled.

"She's very persuasive, Miss Grey is," Alfred said. "Will you call her when you get back, or would you like me to?"

"No. She doesn't need to know I'm back yet."

"Master Wayne, there is no way that you are going to be able to hide your existence from Miss Grey, well Dr. Grey, when she stays at the Manor three nights a week."

"That's true. Maybe I'll surprise her at work, instead of just letting her stumble across me as we pass each other in the hallway."

"You can also find her at The Phoenix Rises, the club she opened, or in California at the weekends. She goes to visit a friend there. Mr Anthony Stark. Another billionaire, I believe."

"I've heard of him. They're just friends?"

"Of course, Master Wayne. Miss Grey always confides in me, sir, and assured me just the other day that she and Mr Stark were just friends. I think they're business partners as well as friends. And Miss Grey is very professional."

"I wouldn't expect any less of her." Bruce said, looking out the window, spotting Gotham's skyline in the distance. From this distance, he couldn't tell that the city was full of the corrupt and the evil. Gotham city was beautiful. Its people were the ones that were ugly.

Well…maybe one or two were exempt from that, Bruce thought.

"I deduce from the Spanish Inquisition that you are still in love with Miss Grey, I take it?" Alfred teased his charge, noting the serious look on the young man's face melt away into a genuine smile for his old friend.

"It's Jean, Alfred. I've never stopped."

…...

Jean woke up in between expensive Egyptian cotton sheets, remembering that she was in her room at Wayne Manor. Her blurred vision tried to take in her surroundings, as she sat up. She stayed here a few nights a week for Alfred. When he left, Jean soon realised that Alfred would be incredibly lonely, so gave him someone to look after.

Alfred had left in the late morning yesterday, and Jean didn't think anything of it. Alfred sometimes ran errands, or went on the occasional trip, sometimes taking an outing without telling her. She hoped he'd found a friend his own age, maybe a lady friend, and he was enjoying a weekend away.

Jean stretched her body, before climbing out of her borrowed bed. She was wearing Bruce's old Princeton jumper, and a small pair of white cotton shorts. She grabbed her phone, which was beeping incessantly, telling her she was receiving a phone call, and began walking down the stairs, heading to the kitchen for something to eat.

"Dr. Jean Grey."

"Dr. Grey. Might I say how lovely your voice sounds this morning?" A familiar, cheery voice said from the other end of the line.

"Mr Queen. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me to my fundraiser this evening."

Jean was passing the front door when she noticed it was open. Knowing that Alfred was out, her fist immediately clenched, and she went on the defensive. Her S.H.I.E.L.D training and her Phoenix instincts kicked in immediately. She found the gun she'd hidden behind one of the red oak end tables in the hallway, made sure the safety was on, and got into an offensive stance.

"Ollie, we've talked about this," She said, her eyes scanning the area as she moved through the ground floor of the house, ducking into rooms, checking them for intruders before moving on. "I'm not the kind of girl you want to be dating."

"Red, you're exactly the kind of girl I want to be dating. I've had enough of the other girls. They're all the same; money hungry, fake, fame whores. You're perfect. Just give me a chance, would you? Come with me to the fundraiser. Use it like a trial date."

"Fine. How should I dress?"

"1920's theme. I'll pick you up from your apartment at seven."

"See you then, Hood."

"Until then, Phoenix."

Jean knew about Oliver's night time activities as the Green Arrow, and she'd be the first to admit, it was really hot. He was taking the law into his own hands, like her alter ego did, and she admired that. He, like her, had the will to do what was right, what was necessary, and she often found herself having a hard time with keeping him at a distance, and wanting to keep him at a distance. Her resolve was waning, and she did have slight feelings towards Oliver. But then there was still Bruce. And sometimes she found herself having all sorts of thoughts about a different archer she worked with.

Jean shook the thoughts away, and walked back towards the front door as she heard voices. She gripped her phone in her hand, holding the gun tighter if possible, and tucked the phone into the band of her shorts. She raised the gun, and stalked forward. Jean turned round the corner, and her grip on her gun became tighter with shock. She realised she was staring, and she didn't care. She didn't care. He was standing there, staring right back, his brown eyes wide because of the gun in her hand.

"Hi, Jean." His voice filled her ears, and she closed her eyes, feeling the tears fall. She lowered the gun, and placed it on the end table near the door.

He's here.

Jean opened her eyes again, and walked up to him slowly, as though he were a wild animal she might frighten off with quick movements. His eyes watched her movements, wondering why she seemed almost afraid of him.

She was barely inches in front of him now, and her hand hesitantly touched his face. Her fingers barely brushed his cheekbone, feather-like touches that still managed to leave a burning sensation on his skin. His eyes didn't leave Jean's face, as she gazed at him, staring so deep into his dark brown eyes she thought she might drown, so he immediately noticed when the confusion and joy in her eyes, suddenly turned to furious anger. And then he felt it.

The hand that had been embracing him had suddenly struck him, and left pain in its wake.

Jean glared at Gotham's prodigal son, Bruce Wayne.

"I guess I deserved that." Bruce commented, rubbing his cheek.

Jean ignored him, raising her phone and pressing her speed dial.

"Dr. Jean Grey's office."

"Lilia, could you please call Mr Andrews and ask him to make sure he's in the office today. I was going to show my face, but I have prior commitments that are unavoidable. Tell Andrews not to mess up the video conference with Mr Luther. Tell him to reiterate to Luther that Turner Industries doesn't do business with criminals. Thanks, Lilia."

Jean hung up the phone, and looked at Bruce with a hard glint in her eyes.

"Why?" She asked, simply.

"Why what?"

"Why did you leave? Why didn't you call? Why didn't you come home? Why are you back now? Why?"

"I left to find myself. I needed to distance myself from my life in order to do so. And I'm back now to do what's right."

Jean didn't seem satisfied. She didn't bother wiping away the tears, she just let them fall.

"You could have talked to me."

"I know."

"But you didn't. You just left as though I meant nothing to you, as though Alfred meant nothing to you, as though the life you had meant nothing" Jean snapped, her anger welling up within her. "They told me you were dead. Dead, Bruce. And all I could think was that I let my last words to you be angry ones that I didn't mean."

"They were true."

Jean wiped her eyes furiously now, embarrassed that he'd made her cry again. No one had seen Jean Grey cry for years. She wanted to be angry. Wanted to be furious at him for leaving. But seeing him here, standing in front of her, alive and well, was more than what she had hoped.

Bruce could see her resolve wane, and braced himself for whatever pain she would inflict upon him. He deserved it. He wasn't prepared for what happened next.

Jean hesitantly pulled him into the circle of her arms, afraid of letting him get close to her, afraid of letting herself become so vulnerable again.

He was taken aback, almost as much as she was. His arms wrapped themselves around her back, and held her there. He held her as she finally broke down, and sobbed onto his shoulder.

Bruce rubbed her back with one hand, his other stroking her hair. She leaned back to look at his face through blurred vision.

"Don't ever do that to me again, got it? I'll hunt you down and make you sorry, just like when we were kids!"

"I'll try not to."

Jean stared at him, feeling her heart beat loudly in her chest, and temptation telling her to kiss the lips her eyes would keep moving to. Knowing that if she let herself give in to those desires all the pain she had felt because of him would just go unpunished, and unresolved, Jean untangled herself from him, stepping back and scrubbing her face furiously.

"I've got some calls to make. Secret government crap that's unavoidable. I-I'll talk to you later, Bruce."

"Let's go for dinner tonight." Bruce said, catching her wrist in his hand, holding onto it softly, so he didn't hurt her. Jean noticed this.

"You know, if you grip me tighter it won't hurt. I'm not made of glass, and I'm not exactly as fragile as the average human either," She commented dryly, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "And I can't. I'm going to a fundraiser tonight."

"I'll go with you."

Jean closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I sort of promised Oliver Queen I'd accompany him. I'm sorry, Bruce."

"It's no problem. I'll see you there regardless."

"It's a twenties theme, so get Alfred to buy you something appropriate," She told him, giving him a watery smile, before she started to walk away, but Jean stopped and turned. "I'm glad you're home, Bruce. Gotham feels more like home than it has the past seven years."

"It's good to be home."

"You going to stick around?"

"Yeah."

"Well, you're going to see some interesting stuff. Things in Gotham are worse than when you left. Crazy stuff has happened, though I'm sure Alfred's filled you in on what's new in my life," Jean said, managing to crack a joke, and a grin. "Just don't kill me, Bruce, because then the other lady pays us a visit and we don't want that."

"'The other lady'? That's what you're calling your alter ego?"

"Not always. Mostly she's known as the Phoenix. But I call her the hot headed bitch who tries to ruin my life by making me do stupid shit I don't like doing."

"Like what?"

"Ask around. I'm sure people are still talking about it. I mean, it was only six years ago."

With that, Jean turned and ventured back upstairs, and dressed herself for work and her phone call meeting with 'the Boss man' or Director Nick Fury. She wore high waisted black zip trousers, with a sheer black blouse tucked in to her trouser line, teamed with Giuseppe Zanotti black peep toe heels, her white lab coat and a Gucci handbag. Jean pulled a brush through her dark brunette hair but left it down and natural.

The way Bruce likes it, Jean thought absentmindedly, until she caught herself.

She had her Blackberry pretty much glued to her hand, as she walked out of Wayne Manor, not even saying goodbye to the two men inside. Jean climbed into her car, a sleek grey Lamborghini and placing her bag in the spare seat, and her Blackberry on the cars speaker phone placement, she gunned the engine and pulled away.

She pressed her speed dial on her phone, and it instantly connected.

"Agent Grey. Status report." Fury ordered.

"Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham, as we suspected. He still trusts me, so I'm sure he'll let me know what he's planning."

"Make sure that he does. The League of Assassins wanted to use the two of you for a reason, we need to know why."

"I'll get on it."

"If things escalate in Gotham, I'll send Barton or Romanoff in as back-up." Fury said, his tone softer, the change almost undetectable to even Jean's excellent hearing. Jean knew that Fury had a secret soft spot for her, along with Coulson, Hill, Barton and Romanoff. They were his favourite and most trusted agents, and they knew it.

"I'll let you know if I need assistance. I'll get more information as soon as possible, sir. Phoenix out."

Jean sighed. Her life had just become even more complicated.


End file.
